My Oriental Mate

The waves of the beach crashed amongst the shoreline, gently caressing the beige spotted sand with a touch of a lover. White-lined waves rushed towards the cemented-color rocky riptides. The rocks sweated with the endurance it faced with the rough waters, but nonetheless its endeavor was beautiful.

Rich houses surrounded the beach, closing in the beach, hiding it so that only a few may know about its beauty. But it wasn't enough to cave the beach. Tourists from different parts of the world came to visit, marveling in its magnificence and nature. Not only that, but news reporters and magazines covered the area, declaring the secret hidden beach that this was the beach to be at.

This was the beach to visit.

So, naturally, as a lover of nature, the wolf pack from German visited America. They booked their flight to Southern California, excited to release their wild side and catapult into the crashing waves of sweet, sweet cold water. Because their country wasn't in the best of its weather, it made the small pack plead their Alpha for a small vacation, which he reluctantly agreed to.

As soon as the seven-person wolf pack made it to the beach, they whooped in joy.

Two younger males of the pack immediately darted to the shoreline, dumping their belongings in the hard sand as they stripped with each step.

"No wonder they're the idiots of the high school," a young petite girl commented at the two teenage boys. She sighed heavily, turning to the Alpha of the wolf pack. "Are we free to do as we please, Alpha?"

"Yes," the black-haired man said lowly in a thick German accent, his squinting eyes gazing at the tourists. Though the line backer-formed man's posture seemed languid and eased, his muscles bunched beneath his skin with the intent to handle any threat thrown towards his pack.

Sensing his unease, his mate purred beneath her breath and rubbed her body along his in comfort. "Do not worry, my love. Have some fun," Eleanor murmured, lightly bumping her hip to his before taking their nine-month old pup to the shoreline.

A heavy breath of worry and agitation released from the very thin lips of his mouth as he watched his redheaded mate sashay her hips in a way that allured his mind. Shaking his head, Niedhart cleared his mind of the innumerous ways he would like to take his mate to bed and concentrated on his small, but just as important, pack. The burden of protecting his pack in a human infested beach was not the only thing in his mind. Just beyond the edge of where they had declared their territory on the beach was another pack of wolves, wolves from the Eastern Seas.

They were not close enough to become a threat, but they were too close for comfort.

As werewolves that came from Germany, they were built different from any other wolves in different countries. Much like the wolves in Russia, German werewolves were stocky. They were built on pure muscle and strength, bleeding terrible strength that German werewolves were notorious for beating their enemies, rivals, and rogues into a bloody pulp.

Though they had strength, they did not have speed.

The wolves of the Eastern Sea held speed that challenged the wind itself. It was told that the Goddess of the Moon had pitied the Eastern wolves for their small and petite figures, and blessed them with speed to help them run from their battles.

Just the thought of the Eastern wolves attacking his own pack made Niedhart's lip curl.

"Is everything alright, brother?"

A heavy hand landed upon Niedhart's shoulder, distracting the Alpha from his bloodthirsty thoughts. He turned his head to the side and gazed at his brother with narrowed eyes. He studied his brother's wiry form, wondering where had genetics gone wrong as the bulky muscled, football-like family had somehow had a lean swimmer included.

Wilheim's blond hair waved in the air. Whereas his older brother had the fur of midnight, Wilheim had the air of sunshine.

"I'm fine," Niedhart growled. "I just can't stand…crowds," he said lamely.

Sadly, it was true. Niedhart wasn't a social person as Wilheim was. Where his brother would rather isolate himself in his room, Wilheim was constantly outside partying with humans, vampires and other were animals. It was one of the aspects of Wilheim Neidhart hated.

But honestly, where was the fun when you hated everything around yourself?

Wilheim laughed loudly, clapping his brother's shoulder and squeezed it. "Neidhart, just breathe! Go join in with your mate and pup. I shall watch the pack!"

The petite female besides them snorted. "You'll be distracted by the women here."

"Johanna, you wound me!" Wilheim flirted, placing both hands upon his heart as if he gained an injury mysteriously.

The rogue female they had found three months ago rolled her eyes. She dropped her red and purple striped bag on the sand, chucking off her sandals as her white shirt soon followed. Johanna turned to Wilheim and Neidhart with a bored expression as they stared at her bikini-clad body with shock. "You out of all people should know that Wilheim is unable to refuse any attention whatsoever from anything that's wearing a skirt."

"…You're wearing a bikini!" Wilheim choked. "You've never worn any…any female clothes!"

Johanna narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, aren't you a lesbian?"

The two younger boys, twins to be exact, came to the three. They stood there soaking in water before shaking their bodies like wet dogs, splashing everyone with salty water. When their Alpha growled threateningly, they merely laughed, unfazed by their elder cousin's growls and snarls.

"Damn, I didn't know you hid a woman's body underneath all those baggy clothes!" the lanky one of the twins crowed.

"Seriously, since when did you get a bod?"

"Erich, Erwin, that's not polite," Wilheim commented, but nonetheless grinning.

Johanna blushed heavily, scowling at the twins. "Stop staring, stupid! Just because I don't wear feminine clothes don't mean that I'm a lesbian!"

All the males blinked in confusion. "We never said you were a lesbian."

The ex-rogue hissed at them angrily before stomping off towards the sea.

"Niedhart! Niedhart, come in the water!"

Eleanor, Niedhart's mate, was wearing a blue-white striped bikini. His dark eyes watched as the mother of his pup grinned at him with blinding trust, her hip decorated with his pup giggling and laughing madly. The wolf in him purred at the sight of his mate's red fiery hair swishing near the sides of her hips.

He wanted to go to her side, gods he did. But he had a pack to protect and that was his duty.

Wilheim grinned at his brother, elbowing his side. "Go join your mate, brother. Relax."

Niedhart's eyes slithered to the Eastern wolves. He frowned, displeased at how close they were. It wasn't even that close, if his brother were to be the one to judge. But it was close enough. The Alpha snorted, ears twitching at his mate's calling. "As Beta, be sure that there will be no danger, brother."

"Alright, alright, go!"

The twins and Beta watched as their ramrod stiff Alpha made his way to his small mate. They laughed as his pup, Augustine, to a point where the pale white crack of his ass revealed to everybody in a fifteen feet radius, tugged down his navy board short. Their Alpha quickly pulled it up and delivered an angry snarl at them when they had hollered in laughter at his pale, pale ass.

"Oh, man," Erich, the lanky twin, cackled. "I've never seen an ass as white as that!"

Erwin, the built one, shuddered. "I don't ever want to see that again."

"It's definitely a full moon tonight!"

Wilheim shook his head. His blue marble eyes wandered from his brother and to the beautiful shapely women of the beach. His trademark dimples deepened as he nodded to a passing blond with an amazing hourglass shape body. There was nothing more satisfying than being able to ogle beautiful, oh, so, beautiful women. "Get along, you two."

As the twins darted off to the waters, Wilheim hummed happily. He straightened out the folded chair and plopped upon it. Sliding sunglasses on his face, Wilheim leaned back and crossed his legs to enjoy the view.

Mmm-mmm, blondes. It was the blond Caucasian women that caught his attention.

Wilheim had a certain taste. As any other boy, he was very picky with his food, and that included women. He loved women of white skin, women with blond hair. All his past potential 'pre-mates' were blond Scandinavian women; blond Scandinavian women with luscious hips, bountiful breasts, and legs that went to Mars. There was nothing more that made him aroused to see his tanned hand against pale, pale skin; skin that rivaled milk.

Just thinking about it made Wilheim sigh happily.

It was a little bit too happy from the evidence of a tent growing in his pants.

The only thing that irked the male werewolf, who was more than old enough to mate, was that every time he came close enough to mark a willing female as his own, something random would happen.

Once he had a lovely Norwegian she-wolf in his bed, ready to mate when suddenly he broke his femur on the way to the bed.

The English female werewolf, who had been wriggling in his sheets rather enticingly, suddenly had a bad case of a gas-filled stomach that turned off Wilheim's libido faster than the word "no". It was like living on a methane planet.

A Polish daughter from a promising neighbor pack was set to mate him, but she eloped with a random African man she had met an hour prior to the mating ceremony.

It went from broken bones, his mates running away, sudden turn offs, odd one-day incapability to perform, infected genitals, etc., etc., etc. The list went on and on and on.

And that was when Wilheim had completely given up on the idea of mating.

His superstitious mother had mentioned that perhaps he was cursed from a mistake he had done in his previous life, which was unlikely. And while his brother merely laughed at all of Wilheim's unlucky matings, Eleanor merely stated that Wilheim was destined for someone else. It had been a romantic thought, but it was not something he would dwell upon.

Wilheim loved the ladies, the blond ladies. He will not wait for his destined mate. Pfft.

Johanna, who had finished swimming sturdily across the waves, sloshed onto the shore. She gasped, panted as she walked on her noodle-like legs towards Wilheim. "Gods…that…was tiring!"

His blue eyes twinkled as the female flared out her tigger towel and lay upon it. "Tanning?"

She didn't reply. When she lied upon her stomach and unknotted the top of her bikini to avoid a tan line, Wilheim clicked his tongue.

"Your Alpha won't like that."

Again, Johanna didn't reply.

The brown-haired ex-rogue female was found on the border of their lands. Wilheim remembered the day as clear as the morning dew on the sweet vitality of grass, because he was the one that had found her. The poor little she-wolf had been beaten, starved, and scarred. It had taken them days to get her to talk, and months to get her to properly communicate with the rest of the pack. Johanna still had a mysterious background, but the Alpha decided to leave her as is (for now, that is) at the request of his mate. Her tenacity to not only avoid the pack, but also disobey Alpha and Beta was one of her traits.

Wilheim was less firm than his brother, but nonetheless he demanded respect. The only reason why he was lenient on Johanna, rather than on his two idiotic cousins, was because she was much like a timid mouse when disciplined.

On her third escape, they realized that her mind was very vulnerable. It made Wilheim strangely protective of the small girl.

"Go enjoy the water. I'll watch over the stuff," Johanna mumbled sleepily.

Wilheim smiled and tickled her ears, barely dodging a swipe of her pink nails. "You're too tired to watch the stuff."

"I can do it." Johanna narrowed her eyes.

It plainly meant: Trust me.

And Wilheim understood it.

"Alright, alright, you pussy cat," he ruffled her hair just to get a rise out of her. Wilheim jumped off the chair quick enough to dart away from her angry hands.

He chuckled beneath his breath. Blue eyes, the same color of the speckles on robin's egg, glanced around to find the familiar black-haired bone headed cousins of his. The edge of his lips rose when he spotted them doing cannonballs off of a small rocky cliff. Immediately, the women flew out of his mind as boyish trouble fun made its way into his brain.

The wind rippled past him as he ran. His hair bounced with each step, as his dimples grew deeper with each powerful leap he took. As soon as he was close enough to his cousins, he crowed 'cannonball' and soared past them, off of the small miniature cliff and into the water. When Wilheim popped from the surface, he grinned at the twins as they whooped with excitement.

"Come on, we have to top that!" Erich leapt away from the edge of the cliff, feeling adrenaline rush through his veins as he let out a Tarzan-like yell. But just before he flew off, Erwin snickered and shoved his twin in midair, causing Erich to lose his balance and belly flop on the water.

Wilheim roared with laughter.

"Aww, my stomach!" Erich flailed in the water. "Erwin, you asshole!"

Erwin puffed out his chest. "I'll show you a true dive!"

Both Wilheim and Erich watched the four time regional diving champion twirling mystically in the air three times before neatly entering the water without a zilch of splash.

"I hope he realizes that this isn't as deep as the pool back home," Erich mentioned wryly.

When a head popped out screaming bloody murder, they both laughed.

"My hands! Awww, my fucking hands!"

"This isn't the pool, Erwin!" Wilheim shouted as he swam to sea. "It's not as deep as you think it is!" He kicked out his legs and swam to edge of the cliff to do some more cannonballs when the unexpected happened.

His whole body shook violently for a complete three seconds before stilling to a point where Wilheim looked like a beautiful Greek statue. His aqua eyes sharpened, nose twitching erratically while his body slunk to the small rocky cliff as he watched for his prey. Wilheim's heart was thumping crazily, twisting and almost yearning for something, something that he couldn't pinpoint. He couldn't decipher his body's reactions.

The twins, who have noticed his odd behavior, stuck to the ground like dirt. Not a peep was said.

Wilheim sniffed the air cautiously.

It was the scent of sweet, sweet strawberry. Almost too sweet that it was as if ice cream was there.

Wilheim narrowed his eyes. Lip curling when he noticed some of the Eastern wolves had gotten close to the three of them without him noticing. He zeroed in on the Asian women yammering in a different dialect. They were giggling lady-like, with a hand over their mouths as their summer dresses were licked by the waters of temptation.

Wilheim had never placed his eyes on a woman of different race. He was never interested in non-blond women. Never. And he would never place his eyes on an Asian woman. He couldn't even tell the different between their races!

And not to mention, they are as flat as a board. It was like the women were meant to have the bodies of little boys!

It was then a small face caught his attention.

Small dark eyes glittered in excitement as a pudgy hand stretched in his direction. The little pup was giggling madly, sauntering towards him in her baby walk. She squealed in delight when the water rushed up to tickle her feet, but that didn't deter her attention from him.

It was then when the wolf within Wilheim purred loudly that he figured out instinctively who this child was.

It was his destined mate.

Wilheim leapt up from the rocks with an ugly snarl, bunching up the muscles beneath his skin as if he were coiling like a snake, ready to attack his prey. Erich and Erwin jumped to their feet, peering over the edge to see the Asian women gasped in shock from Wilheim's display. They gathered around the pup protectively, while one picked up the child, and darted off into the circle of their pack.

Erich blinked at Erwin, making some lip movement to ask his twin a question when suddenly Wilheim turned away savagely and stopped off towards the distance.

"What the hell?"

Wilheim ignored the twins, too distraught to focus on anything at the moment.

He was mated…he was mated to an Asian pup. What the hell was going on? Was he in some parallel universe or something? This couldn't be possible! This couldn't happen! Just the thought of standing next to a petite, thin, flat-chested, black-haired woman fired him up. Wilheim stomped away from the crowds, snarling and growling at the numerous thoughts of bloody murder in his head.

What the fucking fuck?

There had to have been something wrong. Something must've intercepted the way of fates to allow a black-haired bitch to be his mate. There were more than a few handfuls of fair-haired women, why did he have to be perched with an Asian woman out of all races?

True, it could have been worse. It be mated to a vampire, other were animal or another disgusting supernatural creature, but at the moment, Wilheim felt as if there was nothing worse than this.

He couldn't even speak Chinese!

How the hell was he going to communicate with his mate? He spoke German, and yeah, a decent amount of English, but no. He couldn't speak or read symbols!

The cool waves soaking his feet didn't diminish the fire raging within him. It was an eternal fire, flames that were licking the interior of his body with malicious glee. The animalistic side of him roared for release. It wanted to shred the measly humans surrounding the werewolf. It wanted him to bask in their blood and relish in the bloodlust that was rising to an impeccable pinnacle. Wilheim wasn't even sure if his brother, his Alpha would be able to rein in this ferocity of his wrath.

Perhaps Wilheim was 'throwing a tantrum' for something so ridiculous. Not everybody had the prosperity of meeting his or her destined mate. This…this was big. This was something not to mess with.

It was rare.

And he was the not so lucky son of a gun who was lucky enough to meet his destined mate.

It was a mate with a completely different image of his desire.

Wilheim's fierce blue eyes scanned the beach as he sat, sulking, upon a high-perched cliff that overlooked the area. It wasn't too high to be declared a danger to the public, but it was high enough to obscure himself from the rest.

His eyes wandered from woman to woman, admiring angrily at their fleshy bodies and wonderful corn-silk hair.

It was the hair that wouldn't be caressing his chest after a round in bed.

It was the hair that wouldn't be seen in the first month of official mating.

It was the hair that wouldn't be touched for a long, long ass time.

And all that angered him. It made him contemplate about things he should be. Wilheim narrowed his eyes at the Eastern pack and snarled quietly. He curled his lip, bringing a knee to his chest. Neatly trimmed fingernails itched to release the inner claws and swipe at every female in the pack.

It made the furious male want to kill his destined mate.

It took about a few more seconds of a minute for Wilheim to realize what he was doing. In the midst of his rage, he had not realized that he stealthily slunk towards the Eastern pack, kidnapped the child (or shall he say his soon-to-be dead destined mate), and whisked away from the beach and back to the perch of the cliff.

On his way to the cliff unknownst to him, his twin cousins had seen him.

Of course, it would catch anyone's attention to see a fierce man with a quietly whimpering toddler held by the scruff of her shirt. Not that it had, especially with the Beta's skillful hiding techniques to the human and supernatural eye. But to his pack members, it caught their attention.

And he had noticed their baffled expressions, but did nothing of it.

"Wilheim!" Erwin called out.

Wilheim merely shoved past the two twins, the bridge of his nose wrinkling a silent threat; it dared the high schooler to try and stop the adult male. He stomped through the sand, one arm limp at his side while the other held the sniveling Asian toddler.

Erich's eyebrows furrowed in concern, scratching his brown hair as he quickly thought of a solution. He turned to his brother. "Inform Niedhart."

When anything concerned a pup, a war would break.

The lanky, but wise teen knew what was going on. He knew what was going on through his cousin's flirty, but thickheaded skull.

The pup was his cousin's destined mate, and boy was he not happy.

And even though Wilheim was not content with what the fates had paired him with, Erich was not one to step to the side and allow one mistake to break apart their small pack. He chased after the still stomping blond man, roughly pulling on his shoulder. Erich ignored Wilheim's snarl, praying to the gods that he wouldn't pull rank. "Wilheim, you need to stop."

"Shut up," Wilheim bared his teeth.

"I can't do that. You're not thinking right-"

"Don't you dare say that." Wilheim turned fully to his cousin, stalking up towards him with eyes blazing madly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Erich's eyes went to the red-faced toddler. "I know what you're thinking about doing, but it won't solve it."

"Go away."

"That child is your mate. You cannot kill her! You're an idiot for-"


If Erich were in his werewolf form, his ears would be plastered flat against the skull of his head. The tone Wilheim had used demanded Erich to stay within his ranks. It told the teen that if he dared speak to his Beta as he had did again he would pay dearly for the consequences. And because of this, Erich had no choice but to stand by and allow his Beta to continue on with his plans of murder.

He only hoped that his twin had quickly found their eldest cousin, Niedhart, before Wilheim manages to cause a mini-war between the two packs.

Giving Erich a last, but meaningful snarl, Wilheim continued to stop towards the cliff he had been. He casted quick magic, something only Alphas and Betas can create, conjure and control, and hid his trail.

Wilheim needed as much time as he can get to make this swift and clean.

Once he had reached a higher and steeper edge of the cliff, Wilheim grabbed the child by the scruff of her small light green dress and hung her over the side of the cliff and riptides. The jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff sweated with the cool water, glistening from the sun's rays. Crashing waves echoed in a sort of triumph, encouraging Wilheim's rightful act of purging the world of his mate.

Just as his fingers loosened to drop the pup into the freezing water and high point, he looked at her face and was mesmerized.

Her 'rice-shaped eyes' (as Wilheim would condescendingly describe) were gazing up at him with such betrayal. The female pup's lips were like roses; the softest and lightest color of pink. It pinched and tightened, threatening to release the bawl building up in her stomach. Cheeks were dusted with a pink child-like blush. Her hair was cut short, left just right under the lobes of her ear with wavy curls and turns.

The more he stared at her, the more time passed.

Wilheim grudgingly admitted to himself that her eyes weren't like rice pellets. It was more doe-like: wide dark brown eyes.

Her teary eyes quickly dried as if she hadn't been fearful of her life. The pup suddenly giggled, kicking her feet back and forth as she still hung over her impending, but paused death.

"Stop it," he ordered.

"Ahn-young!" she chirped cheerfully in her broken baby talk.

His teeth bared and immediately the pup's cheery nature dissipated. But just as quickly, she released a squeal and started laughing. By the strength of her kicking and screaming, Wilheim was forced to step back a few steps lest he released her into the spiky rocks.

Wilheim groaned animalistically, smashing his head into the rocks nearby as the child continued on with her nonsense babble and waddled towards him. "Why can't you die?" he growled angrily at her. "Why are you my mate, why can't it be someone else? I don't like you, you disgusting…." His voice dwindled away as he stared at her grinning at him with a string of drool dripping off her chin.

How could anyone possibly be upset with such an adorable face like that?

The wolf in him purred at the pup's ministration as she curled up against his chest. Wilheim's eyes drooped shut at the attention his destined mate was giving him for only a moment until he realized what he was doing.

"Stop it!" he yelled, shoving the toddler away from him.

The Eastern pup yelped, yelping loudly. She pushed herself up on her pudgy fists and stared at him with watery eyes.

"Oh, no," Wilheim groaned.

Instead of wailing in a high-pitch voice a toddler could only contain, the pup merely continued to gaze at him with tear-filled eyes. She hiccupped, sniffling as she rubbed her eyes with her fist. "Uh…uh…umma," she whimpered for.

Wilheim frowned. "Who is that? Your mother?"

The Asian toddler simply sniffled in response.

A hand roughly rubbed his face as he exhaled raggedly. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Wilheim was supposed to kill the child, rid himself of a mate that wasn't of his desire. But just looking into the eyes that were glistening with trust and betrayal was too much for him to handle. The wolf in him also brayed against his human-like intentions, stating that it was demeaning as a wolf, a Beta, to kill off not only his mate, but also a pup.

His wolf didn't know, but Wilheim was sure that this pup would be the death of him. He had heard some cases of destined mates coming together and he was sure he'd end up like those sniveling males living only for their mates.

It was disgusting.

"I probably wouldn't have minded it if only you were blond and white," Wilheim snarled at the Asian pup. "But nope, you just had to be…. Asian."

Wilheim would most likely have acted the same if she had been any other race than white.

"The Gods must be laughing at me."

It was almost laughable to see the Beta werewolf wallowing in rage and depression on such a bright sunny day.

He clawed his face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks ever so slowly. "Why, why, why?" As Wilheim was distracted within his self-questioning, he didn't realize the curious toddler was already moving on from her sniffing phase and went to explore the area he had kidnapped her in.

It was only when he opened his bright blue eyes did he realize the missing kid.

An instinct bubbled up from the depths of his wolf. Immediately, Wilheim jumped to his feet. His eyes worriedly searched the area.

"She couldn't have gone far," he said, consoling himself from panicking.

The cliff wasn't vast. It only a couple feet in radius, but the rest was fenced in by god knows what. There were cracks and crevices in the cliff's side and upon that a small child could fit into and get stuck. The continuous sounds of water crashing against the sides weren't helping the nerves wrangling in Wilheim.

Aware that there were only a couple of humans from earshot, Wilheim yipped, barking a couple sounds that only a werewolf could decipher as a call for missing pups.

Anxiety built up within him, and soon enough he was frantically looking for her.

"Fuck," he cursed. If he had known her name, it would make everything so much easier. Wilheim yipped a couple more times, and each time it became desperate.

He rounded around the beach a couple more times, ignoring the human's wary eyes as he did so. Wilheim was gnawing on his lip, scratching his arm in nervousness as he continued to search for the pup. When he circled around the cliff for another three times, he realized that there was a small part of the beach that was blocked off from the public. He squinted his eyes to see that a hole in the fence, which seemed like it was made recently, that led to the small area.

Cautiously approaching the hole, Wilheim jumped over the fence. He stood up straight and tall, nose twitching every now and then for a scent in the wind.

Baby-like laughter caught his immediate attention.

Wilheim dashed towards the sound, his eyes wild with extreme anxiety. He bounded down the opposite side of the cliff, landing upon the softness of sand from the small part of the beach hidden.

Small wet hands smacked his strong calves, muddling it in mud and water.

"You tyke," Wilheim said hoarsely. Without even realizing it, he had swooped down and enveloped the toddler in his arms. He held her in his arms, nuzzling his face into her neck as the end of his worries came to a stop. He didn't even bother to stop and comprehend what he was doing.

All was important was the child's safety.

For the next two hours, he watched as the child giggled, throwing sand up in the air and carefully stomping around the mushy sand of the shoreline. The smell of strawberries permeated the salty air.

He sat there, cross-legged and in deep thought.

From time to time the child would approach him. She peered up in his face and slapped a muddied hand on his cheek. Then she would process to chew on his beautiful blond hair in a dirty fist, squealing when he bared his fangs at her in warning.

The toddler was…exquisite, Wilheim realized.

Usually, a norm werewolf would shift into its wolf form after a week or two of its tenth birthday. It was tradition that once a child had gained a two-digit age, that he or she was responsible enough to make his or her own decisions, of course with guidance from the pack.

But this child was already shifting.

He hadn't realized it until a small black tail peeked from underneath her green skirt. Black ears also popped out from the top of her head and small fangs glistened in the sun.

Wilheim merely stared at her openly, blinking in confusion as she continued to crawl all over him. He didn't bother to throw the pup off. Even when she had hooked her teeny tiny fingers into her mouth as leverage to pull herself higher on his shoulder, he didn't move.

"Quit it, rugrat," he hissed when she pulled on his hair once again.

She laughed in glee, clapping her hands together when he had shown an expression.

"Annoying little thing, aren't you."

"Ah, brrrfth."

Bubbles of spit spewed from the edges of her mouth.

Wilheim grimaced before extending a hand to wipe off the salvia with his thumb. Watching over the pup was no different than watching his brother's pup, Augustine.

From time to time, Eleanor and Niedhart wished for their own private time and Wilheim allowed it by taking watch over their only son. Though Augustine was quiet and meek, the child could be a pain in the crack of the ass by his constant need to explore and bother others. Wilheim didn't know what it was, but pups had this innate need for adventure regardless of how weak or small they were.

It made it all the harder to watch them.

The thought of it made Wilheim gaze east. "Aren't your guardians worried of you?"

Said pup grinned at him with tiny fangs. Her ears twitched at the curious sounds of water and she crawled towards it.

"Ah, ah!" Wilheim reached over and hooked a finger at the back of her dress and pulled her away from the water. "That's enough for you."

Even when she gazed up at him with watery eyes, he stuck to his stern words. The sun was already coming down a few inches, telling him that it was time to get back before the sun had a chance to full set. But he still had something to deal with.

Suddenly, Wilheim glanced at the pup to see her sitting directly before him, staring at him with doe-like eyes. She blinked, her toes twiddling.

She was…Asian.

A heavy sigh rang from him, but it didn't make the situation any better. Another swipe down his face was done, and its action brought laughter from the pup.

This child was just of laugher, wasn't she?

Wilheim groaned, throwing himself backwards as his arms spread to his side. Not a second later, the pup was already crawling towards him. She plopped herself on his chest and giggled, bouncing up and down as she crowed a foreign word in what he can safely assume 'horsey'. That didn't stop her as she reached over and pulled on his blond hair.

This time, he did nothing to reprimand her. He allowed her to tug on his hair, and even chew on it as he was forever falling through an interminable gyrate of depression. Wilheim was sadly forced to accept this uncalled for mating.

As the pup chewed and played with his hair, he gazed up at the orange-yellow sky, musing over the thoughts of his future mate when she had grown.

She would be exotic in a sense. It was no secret that most white men had a fetish for Asian women. To some it was sickening, while to others it was amusing. But it was true; Asian women were exotic, like rare birds that were only allowed to be gaze upon by worthy eyes.

"Make sure you grow well. Eat your vegetables and grow tall. I like a woman with long legs," Wilheim started, closing his eyes as the pup snoozed on his chest with a fistful of blond hair in her unconsciously sucking mouth. "And drink milk, lots of milk. Once you're of an appropriate age and time, you'll be having children of your own. Don't worry about gaining weight. The delivery of pups is more important than being a size zero in pants."

The pup grunted. A long string of drool was slowly rolling down his neck.

"And be sure to avoid boys. They're nothing but trouble." A growl weaseled out of his throat at the thought of boys surrounding her. "And for heaven's sake, don't let them in your pants!"

Even from his raised voice, the pup didn't stir from her nap.

"Study! Education is important!"

His lecture to the sleeping pup went from school to life. He talked about things his father never had a chance to say, things Wilheim saved for his pups when they were of age to talk about. It didn't matter that these went to his destined mate. This pup was in need of some words from him. To the male, it was just a means to make sure that the pup would learn something meaningful regardless if she couldn't understand.

To the wolf, it was a way to hope that the pup would remember this memory and look for him in the nearby future.

Wilheim sighed, finishing off the lecture about finance. He opened his sleepy eyes to see that the sun was dangerously close to setting.

He leaned up, curling his arm around the snoozing pup.

She woke up with a pitiful whine, blubbering as she whimpered for 'umma'. The pup looked up at Wilheim with eyes that screamed for rest and sleep.


Before he even knew it, his mouth spoke for him. Would at least remember his name? It was too much to hope for, but even then, Wilheim wanted her to remember.

The pup tilted her head to the right rather cutely. "Weehee…"





He was dangerously close to throttling the child. Wilheim didn't have a chance to correct her when a human-like wolf howl echoed in the air. It was his cousin, Erwin. He sighed and reached over to pick up the pup when she quickly nipped his finger with her teeny tiny fangs.

"Aww, fuck!" he yelped, sucking the bleeding wound with vigor. "That hurt!"

The pup purely laughed, clapping her hands sleepily. "Weewee!"

Snarling at the pup, Wilheim picked her up like a bag of potatoes under his arm, pinched her ear (to make her wolf transformation disappear), and made way back towards the tourist part of the beach.

The German wolf surreptitiously walked along the edge of the cliff, his keen eyes searching for the Eastern pack. He was correct in thinking that they were worried for the pup. Many of the Asian women were frantically pacing in different areas of the beach, tilting their heads to the sky for a slight scent of the missing pup. The males of the Eastern pack were hunting in near the human parked cars in case an idiot decided to kidnap the pup.

Pups were important to wolf packs. Nobody realized how hard it was for a female to produce a bountiful litter of pups until they tried impregnating their mate.

Wilheim kept to the sidelines. He held the child against his chest, ignoring her continuous chewing of his hair as he nimbly jumped and ran as close as he can to the Eastern pack's belongings.

As he set the pup down, she latched onto his hair and whined, "Weewee."

"Bye, kid," he mumbled as he carefully unraveling his hair from her small sticky hand.

The scent of sweet strawberries drove him to the brink of insanity.

As if the pup knew what was going on, she started to whimper and desperately stretched out her arms to him, hoping that he would pick her up and hold her.

Wilheim knelt down and nuzzled the top of her head affectionately before darting away from his oriental mate.

The painful cries of the pup were strong enough to make his speed slow down, but it wasn't distressed enough to make him come to a complete stop.

Wilheim watched from a long ways as the women of her pack responded to the pup's cries. They picked her up and cooed her, brushing off the dirt and mud sticking to her little cute green dress. The males and females of the pack yammered in their language and started packing up their belongings. He continued to watch them, even when his instincts prickled at a feeling of his Alpha coming to his side.

"What was this I heard about you kidnapping a child?" Niedhart asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

"It's merely foolish talk."

Niedhart watched his brother. In the midst of three hours his brother had gone missing, it seemed as if there was a different person standing before him. A few blond women crossed their paths and Wilheim did not even bother ogling at them. Niedhart narrowed his eyes in confusion, watching as his brother gazed at the Eastern pack. He had not missed the pup and his brother's tête-à-tête. Niedhart had an inkling of what happened, but decided to keep his words to himself. "Are you okay?" he asked in German.

Wilheim merely turned to his brother, his blue eyes twinkling in something indescribable. "I'm fine," he replied softly, scratching the burning bite the pup left on his index finger.

"Hn," Niedhart grunted, turning away from the view his brother was watching. "We are leaving."

Without a word, both brothers turned away from the cries of the pup from the Eastern pack and made their descent back home.

The women of the Eastern pack were fussing over the sobbing pup, consoling and even forced to make faces to try and calm the pup. But no avail. The child continued to cry, sitting on her soaking salt-watered diaper as she wailed into the sky.

"Why is Haneul-gongjunim crying?" one women asked in Korean, going through the pup's bag of toys to try and placate the child.

Another woman picked up the child and bounced the pup on her lip, but that only made Haneul sob harder to a point where her face was turning purple. "I don't know! We found her like this!"

"She's not hurt is she?" The previous woman popped a pacifier into the toddler's mouth. The child kicked out and threw the pacifier to the floor.

The woman who was holding Haneul placed her back on her ground and sighed. "No, she's just crying."

One male werewolf knelt next to the child. "Perhaps she's scared that we weren't around. She was gone for quite awhile, right pup?" he asked, chucking the pup lightly under her chin.

The female hissed at the male and swiped at him with a claw full of fingers. "You idiot, Jungwoo! You don't treat a princess like that! The queen and king will behead you if they learnt what you had just done to their child!"

"She's just a pup!"

"It doesn't matter!" the woman snarled. "She's a princess!"

Jungwoo rolled his eyes and stood. "Alright, alright, Soojung, we'll pack and leave this place."

The most trusted servants of the Eastern Kingdom quickly packed all their belongings and made their way to the extravagant hotel they were currently occupying.

It wasn't until a couple hours later did the midwife and governess of the Princess of the Eastern Seas, Haneul, did they discover her teeny tiny wolfy fangs take a different darker color of ivory with swirls of crimson red tatted on her fangs, declaring to all and beyond that the small pup had found her mate.

The End

A/N: Wilheim's name is probably supposed to be 'Wilhelm', but when I tried to correct it all, his odd spelled name grew onto me to a point where I didn't want to correct it at all, haha.

Everything written in here is in Wilheim's point of view. I am not a racist. It is a story.

I'm itching to write another one-shot, which will probably come out one-way or another. But I promise an update to 'The Princess and the Dragon' first!

Korean terms:

Gongjunim – princess

Umma – mother

Haneul - Korean female name meaning 'sky'

Ahn-young - hello!

Thank you for reading my one-shot! (:


Wilheim stared at a small pudgy face with growing distain. There was no way in hell this was his mate. What had the gods been thinking?